dkerchief and with toadstools for seats.

In a reckless burst of confidence Ma told him how it felt to walk
upside down, like a fly, and to go bounding through the woods like a
thistledown. Gray had never tried it, but he was interested.

Then, finally, alas! the inconsistency of woman! she told him all about
her hidden band of mountaineers.

Now this was something he _could_ understand. This was more his speed.
He insisted upon making the personal acquaintance of those bold
followers of hers and upon hearing the whole sad story of the Princess
Pensacola. The history of her struggle against the wicked Duke of
Dallas moved him; he wove new details of his own into it, and before Ma
knew it he was actually playing the part of the duke.

The duke, it appeared, was a hard and haughty man, but at heart he was
not all bad; when he had listened to the story of his victim's wrongs
and more fully appreciated the courage, the devotion of her doughty
followers, he was touched. For her sake, and theirs, he proposed a
truce to this ruinous struggle. What kind of a truce? Well, he refused
entirely to renounce his claim to the throne, but--they might share it.
He was a handsome man and no wickeder than the general run of dukes; he
would make a becoming husband to the beauteous princess, and if she set
her mind to it she could probably make a better person of him. Thus
would the warring factions be united, thus would the blessings of peace
descend--

But the princess raised her slim, jeweled hand, and spoke thus: "Too
late, Your Honor! I been married to His Royal Highness the Earl of
Briskow, and it serves you right the way you done both of us."

The duke fell into a great rage at this. He refused to believe it, and
threatened to annul the marriage.

"Oh, you can't do that," tittered the princess. "We was married by the
Royal Justice of the Peace and--we got two children."

Here _was_ a blow! The duke was crushed, until a happy thought came to
him. If cruel fate prevented him from claiming the Princess Pensacola
for a bride he would take her for a mother. He had always wanted a
mother, anyhow; lack of maternal care it was that accounted for his
wildness--it was enough to ruin any duke--and mothers were much nicer
than wives. They were much harder to get, also.

"Lord! I wish you meant it!" Ma exclaimed, in a matter-of-fact tone. "I
wish Allie was a real princess. Mebbe--"

Gray broke in with a laugh. "There! You've spoiled th